Secret Cinderella
by N.T. Embe
Summary: Who is this man? Certainly, this is a side apart from the Tseng they thought they knew. One-Shot.


**Title:** Secret Cinderella

**Rating:** PG-13

**Theme:** Revealed

**Pairings/Characters:** Tseng, the other Turks, etc.

**Spoilers/Warnings:** Just a few curses here or there.

**Time Period:** Exact time unspecified.

**Summary:** 'Do you really know him?' The thought was an echo of uncertainty, and up inside of the redhead, desires unquenched and wild arose.

**Word Count:** 4,140

**Dedication:** To Suji, for always being there for me, every day I come home, to cheer me up throughout the hard times, the stressful times, and the times I'm too tired and miserable to even speak of it. Thank you.

**Disclaimer: **Square owns the Turks, but that matters not to me~! So I have shamelessly taken them under my wing and adopted them as mine. Especially Tseng. I dote on Tseng. X3

**A/N:** At first, I didn't think this idea was plausible as something Tseng and the others would do, but after thinking it over quite a bit… I must say that it seems surprisingly in character. This fic is actually based on me, and the day-to-day routine I go through all the time. So yes, I am placing Tseng in my place in this fic. But, perhaps from reading this… you'll find that he and I are not so very far apart in habit. Just perhaps~ -Smiles-

_Note:_ Recently re-uploaded with minor edits.

. . . . . . .

Every morning, he wakes before the first warm glow of the dawning sun. The stars are already gone from sight, but in this city, one wouldn't have been able to see them if they'd wanted to anyway. The garish glare of dank oranges and yellows from street lamps, brightened windows of stores and apartment buildings alike, are always shining. But after a certain hour—the query of whether or not this city is able to shut its restless eyes is at last settled, because when he wakes, the world is always draped in the thick and heavy, nearly stifling blanket of sleep.

There is no pause in him when he rises. No time afforded for even the briefest of moments to resting languidly within the overwhelming, clinging warmth of his covers, and he abandons it without hesitation, not even flinching at the iciness of the brisk autumnal air that chills his apartment past what the average person would deem suitable. But no one visits him, not merely because they are not welcome and he would refuse them outright if ever one such persisted in asking, but because he himself hardly spends time here. His residence and office should truly have had their titles switched, as it is his home that is in fact his home away from home, and his office where he spends most of his time. One has to wonder, almost, if he does it on purpose, to avoid returning to the frigid environment that encompasses his apartment, but they are free to wonder, so long as they keep it out of his knowledge. Because, simply put, he is a private man.

Yet he does have one consistent visitor—and so far, such has gone unawares past his Turks, and he will not offer up such information. So it is with characteristic swiftness that he sheds his expensive, meager amount of nighttime clothing as he moves from his bedroom into the shower, his movements swift and methodic with much practice, and it becomes clear, when he exits from the bathroom twenty minutes later, that the man is thorough and efficient in manners likened to that of a machine. Even as he moves to his closet and dons his clothes without fuss, ignoring the blonde male still sleeping in his bed and tidying the room before stepping with feline fluidity and silence into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, he retains little outward emotion. But the stoic, hardened, almost cold light to his stormy eyes is lost on him in the shadows of his only sanctuary.

For just that single hour, before the interference of the brilliant dawn overwhelms the sky and banishes the night to wait another day before its return, there is almost a humane light to him. Through breakfast, eaten in silence and without disrupting his houseguest from their deep sleep, and on until the moment he steps out the door, it remains upon his countenance as though some forgotten dream, concealed in the depth of the fleeting darkness of slumber, a secret secured away from the world, seen by no one.

And then he leaves, and sunshine flashes across the heavens, absorbing the darkness and flooding the world with light, revealing an effortlessly upheld expression of indifference and purpose, definite concentration, and utter unconcern for what transpires about him. It is most certainly as though he is better than everyone, and anything they do could hardly make a difference, let alone impact him. Because that's exactly what it is, and the truth never seemed so ubiquitously in-your-face as it is when concerning him.

"Good morning, Sir," the doorman greets him, dipping his head as he steps aside to let the Turk Commander pass.

"Good morning, Paul," he responds, silver eyes attaching to the young man's own and sending a chill through him as the Wutain passes.

_What a guy,_ the doorman thinks to himself, stealing a glance after the leader of the Turks, a peculiar expression crossing his face before an impatient grunt from another well-dressed employee catches his attention. "Oh! Sorry sir! Lost my head for a moment there, sir. Good morning, Sir!"

- Lcreenudra… -

The days never pass swiftly. It was not given him the opportunity or the right to rest or to slow his toil during the hours that light bathes his every movement, demanding with the same cruelty as a whip upon his back that his pace never slacken, that just as much progress is made this day as was accomplished the last, if not more. And upon him there are more concerns than just those simple leaflets of records—constantly updated by his swift fingers and pen alone—or of reports heard and filed away or sent out to underlings and the movers and shakers above his post respectively. Tasks fall upon his shoulders and wash off his back as the rain off thick leaves, parasoling the underbrush of deep wildernesses and rainforests both—he the unfazed stoic ever bearing up against the relentless downpours. Leaving behind the world to wonder how he never gets wet.

"Sir, another document for you," a female voice intrudes.

"Place it upon the desk, please Elena," the calm response—faintest breath of a sigh to his words.

"Yes sir!" she chimes and does as she's told, a smile on her face unable to hide her concern.

He is impassive in most every respect, and an enigma in his own right. Few things he is unaware of as and even before they transpire, and though his allegiance is to the Department of Administrative Research and the President directly, he is not above stepping into the fields of others when it suits him. While knowledge therefore appears to be his primary asset, far more than the ghosting of his presence can be accounted for. Many whisper of his inability to be trusted, and yet his very position undermines those purports, throwing dramatically into question what type of man he very well may be underneath that impregnable mask, never before seen let slip.

"There's been an issue in the Junon Reactor."

"Any word of what's causing the problem?"

"'Interference' is what we're told."

"'Interference?'" Suspiciously questioned.

A sigh breaks through the conference. A hand rushes away from short blonde locks and cold blue eyes close as a file is thrown down on the table.

"Get Tseng to take care of it," the young President instructs.

"But…! Sir! I can assu—"

Hard eyes meet with the protester. The room silent.

"Are you questioning what I said?"

"N-n-no, Mr. President! Absolutely not, Mr. President! I just—"

"Then do me the favor of shutting up, and walking out of this room to get it done."

"I-I…! …yes Mr. President!"

Who he is will forever be a query the dubious press. Yet in and out of meetings with clients, subordinates and superiors, through noncommittal office hours and opaquely hushed missions of varied levels of confidentiality, he alone chooses what to show to perhaps only innocently curious eyes. And if such is indeed but a mask, the effortless, disembodied gaze of his musings, to the gentle warmth of familiarity of a smile given the receptionists upon arrival, soon lost to the backdrop of silken darkness as he verily glides past and away to whence they next needed him…. Then these things alone still remain all there is for them to go on. For he is not an easy man to read, even for those he delicately lets slip hints and elusive bits to, endlessly maddening in his quietness.

"I think there's something wrong," the blonde woman spoke up with concern in her face.

The bald Turk raised an eyebrow and looked to the redhead beside him before they both turned their attention back on the younger Turk.

"Whadda ya _talkin'_ 'bout Elena?" the redhead snorted.

"Tseng," Elena said, a pout forming on her lips at the other Turk's comment. "He's been acting strange today. He hasn't been as focused on his work. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was almost… spacing out."

The redhead blinked rapidly as though trying to process what he had just heard, shaking his head and placing a hand on Elena's shoulder. "Maybe _you_ need ta get some rest, 'Lena. Cause that don't sound like Tseng," the man said dubiously.

"Reno! I'm not making things up! I've worked with him long enough to be able to tell!" she shot back, now truly upset. "Look, I won't make you guys do anything you don't want to, but _I'm_ going to talk to him about it before he gets off of work. _You_ two can sit there and just laugh! Because I know you want to!"

"'Lena! Come on! Ack, she's already gone."

"You're not worried?" the bald man spoke up for the first time.

"Why? Bossman's a big boy. He can take of himself. Sheesh, Rude. Don' start goin' soft on me now. Already got Elena ready ta bawl an' all I did was say tha truth!"

"Maybe there is something up though."

"Listen, forget about it! 'Lena already said she'd check up on 'im, so let 'er go. We've gotta see tha man later on anyway. No sense in goin' now. Come on."

- Gohwuhfu soosalcrufu… -

How quickly the sun set. Though he never paused except for a few minutes here or there to pick up some form of sustenance, he returned always with it to his office, and there he ate every meal as it allowed him to continue his work. So many documents and concerns passed through his office, yet at the end of the day, it was something of a small miracle if one thing did not go wrong, or some complication came up that made an originally simple task seem impossible as scaling the Nibel Mountains with no gear. So much was nevertheless accomplished, and still, so much was always left.

A soft click followed the sudden pale glow of a clock as it shone out the new hour from high upon the wall. With a glance at its round face, Tseng noted the time. 3:00 it read, arrows pointing stoically at their markers while the seconds hand began another steady trek around its track. Calmly the Wutain man's gaze drifted downwards and seemed to blur, his mind swiftly calculating how much more work he needed to get done for the coming day, and how much of it could be put off while the rest needed immediately to be sent out.

Suddenly a crack of light appeared into the dimly lit room, for it was a common occurrence once the hour passed eleven for the man to quell the harsh overhead lights and work by those upon and beside his desk. Then, with a glance to the doorway, the leader of the Turks spoke, "Come in," calmly, his voice light. A man in a gray workers suit leaned in with a smile and a wave, his dark eyes friendly.

"I am sorry to intrude, Mr. Tseng," he said instantly as he stepped inside. "But it is the usual time to clean, sir."

"It's fine, David," the dark haired man responded, exhaling before getting to his feet and pushing back his chair as he did so. Silently he stretched a little, his jacket long ago discarded on the seat behind him, though he still looked every bit as put together with his tie still neatly in place. Coming around the desk he silently unbuttoned his cufflinks and came over to stand in front of the cleaning man. "Have you got any more work to do for tonight?"

"No sir," the man replied with a smile. "Just your office, and then I'm off."

Tseng nodded and let one hand fall to his side, cufflinks grasped loosely. He raised the other and placed it on the older man's shoulder, a faint whisper of a smile on his lips. "Then why don't you go home for the night, David. I'll take care of the office and make sure to return your equipment to its proper station once I'm done."

The graying man looked at him peculiarly, the smile on his face fading a little apprehensively. "Are you sure, sir?" he questioned tentatively. "Your hours are plenty long if you're here when I'm here again."

The dark haired Turk nodded slowly and let his hand fall from the man's shoulder, holding it out for him. Almost reluctantly David took his hand and shook it solidly.

"Well then, thank you very much, Mr. Tseng," the middle aged man said appreciatively, a smile returning to his face. He let go the Turk Commander's hand and reached up to take off his cap, running a hand through his hair before nodding his head slightly. "Hope you have a good night now, Mr. Tseng! Thank you again!"

"You're welcome, David. The same to you," he replied, his eyes watching as the man departed from his office until the door closed behind him. With a faint exhalation, the Turk glanced to the cleaning cart left there and turned to place his cufflinks on the desk. Then he rolled up his sleeves and walked casually over to the cart, glancing only momentarily at the clock to check the time. 3:04, A.M.

- Gohaodraka tihavohs… -

"Whadda ya want, 'Lena?" Reno answered his phone dully.

"Is Rude with you? You're not doing anything right now, right? Can you come meet me? Like right now? You're still in the building right? Come over to Tseng's office right now, Reno! And bring Rude with you! And hurry! I don't know if you're gonna make it if you take too long!" the words rushed over the speaker rapidly.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA, 'Lena! Quit it! _What's_ going on?" Reno shouted into the phone, lifting his feet from the counter and planting them solidly on the ground.

"Just get over to Tseng's office _right now!_" Elena whispered feverishly over the phone before an audible _Click!_ resounded over the line.

"Hey 'Lena! Gaia! She hung up on me, buddy," Reno commented irately, showing the phone to the bald man beside him.

"What did she want?" Rude asked him curiously.

"I'unno. Sumthin' 'bout comin' ta Tseng's office."

"Well," Rude commented, not finishing his sentence as he got to his feet as well.

Reno groaned. "Fine! Fine. Let's go, cue ball!"

It didn't take them long to get to the floor where their boss's office was stationed. However, as they rounded one of the last corners, they weren't expecting to practically run into Elena. She gasped and hissed through her teeth at them, a finger to her lips to fiercely demand their silence.

"Follow me!" she whispered and turned, immediately creeping down the dimly lit hall towards Tseng's office.

Reno rolled his eyes as the blonde crouched down and began to slip down the hallway. With a shrug to Rude, the redheaded Turk soon followed suit, creeping along with Rude not far behind them. They were capable of incredible silence. It was mandatory in their training and in moments like these, it clearly paid off.

However, when Elena came close to a corner and peeked around it to the receptionist's desk, Reno realized it was not _into_ Tseng's office that they were headed, but apparently what they would be _spying_ into. Now he was curious. Moving forward, he placed a hand on Elena's back to let her know he was right there and peered beyond the corner to what she was looking at.

The sitting room was located through glass doors, just around the receptionist's desk to the left. Inside, there was little light, but there was also movement. However, no one was in sight just then. Reno watched for a few moments before tapping Elena's back twice with two fingers, then he darted around her, keeping low to the ground and his eyes on the doors. Suddenly something began to move into sight of the door. Forget about sleepiness. This was way more interesting! Quickly Reno threw himself to the right, behind the desk.

Glancing back to the corner, he caught a fraction of Elena's figure visible from only his angle. She nodded to him and leveled two fingers to the right, towards the doors. Reno nodded once and carefully moved himself into a crouching position, steadily working his way to the edge of the desk. At last, he was able to peer around the corner.

At first, he wasn't certain what he was looking at. The dim lighting might have accounted somewhat for it. But it was clearly the form of a man. It struck him that this was Tseng only because the body was so familiar, if in such an unusual situation. On his hands and knees, jacket and tie gone, and hair tied back in a loose ponytail…this was Tseng?

Reno stared at the man, watching his boss making circular motions against the floor with…was that a rag in his hand? Was he…waxing the floor with that? The gleam of the tiles beneath the form of this impenetrable, unreadable man certainly proved it was so.

A hand fluttered gently onto his backside but Reno jumped nevertheless, turning around and glaring over his shoulder at the serious faced Elena. Rude was right behind her. As Reno shifted back behind the desk, Elena moved over to make room for Rude, just as involved as the other two were in this little mission.

"Did you see?" she whispered to Reno.

"Yeah," the redhead responded quietly. A frown was on his face and he glanced over to Rude before looking back to the female Turk. "Why on Gaia is _Tseng_ cleanin' the damn floors after hours?" There was a note of irritation in the man's voice and he clenched his teeth crookedly, bewilderment in his face.

"So you didn't see," Elena huffed. Rolling her eyes at him she sat down on the floor beside him as Rude finally pulled back, crouching before them both as they all hid well out of sight. The blonde Turk looked to Rude and shook her head. "I don't suppose you saw it either?"

"What's there ta see, 'Lena?" Reno scoffed. "The man's more of a perfectionist than we thought, s'all."

"Dumbass," Elena sighed. "Did you see him _smiling?_"

"What?" Reno asked dumbly.

Rude spoke up thoughtfully. "He didn't seem to mind what he was doing."

"So?"

"Well I don't know Reno," Elena chided. "But maybe you should take another look. Because you know Tseng even better than I do, and you know very well he never smiles like that!"

Reno frowned and shoved past them both suddenly, and to the surprise of both of his companions, stood up and walked towards the glass doors in plain sight. Pushing them open he walked into the waiting area and right up to the man who only sat back on his heels and looked up at him, a look of surprise and quiet expectation on his face.

"Reno, you're here late."

"Could say the same fer you, boss."

Suddenly Tseng held out a hand to Reno and he grasped it, pulling the man up to his feet. Unnecessarily helping, because he knew the boss could get up without any help from him, but when Tseng asked for it….

"What're ya doin' here, boss?" Reno asked finally, impatience getting the better of him. "S'late an' yer not sleepin', drinkin' or on duty. So what the heck possessed ya to pull out the wagon and mop down headquarters?"

Tseng chuckled and threw the rag in his hand from one to the other before turning and walking over to the cart on the other side of the room. "We've been over this before, Reno. My time off is time where you don't interfere, remember?"

"Yeah I remember that bullshit," Reno easily brushed off. "What I don't remember is you askin' for a fuckin' mental breakdown cause yer too tired to get through tha day. So out with it. What're ya doin' here, bossman?"

Tseng glanced back to the Turk, his silver eyes flashing thoughtfully before he sighed and began placing things back on the cart. "Even I need a break sometimes, Reno."

"Dun see how this is a break, Tseng," he countered.

"Of course," Tseng agreed, bending down to slip a few brushes away into the lower half of the cart. "Most people think it's just more work. And why would more work mean a break?"

"'xactly what I'm thinkin'," Reno grumbled, hooking a thumb in his pants pocket and watching his boss expectantly.

"It gives me time to stop thinking," the man replied softly.

"…why the hell do ya needa clean ta do that?" There was no disbelief in his words though, no disrespect either. Something was nagging at him as this man before him was talking to him, and though it made no sense, somehow he felt it was important to hear the man out.

"Because…," Tseng sighed and stood up, one hand resting on the bar of the cart. "It's hard to stop when you always have so much to do, and so much on your mind."

Reno tilted his head backwards and to the side. Without saying anything, Tseng turned around and smiled almost sheepishly at his subordinate. Silently Reno straightened and dropped his hand to his side once more. There was a moment of quiet between the two before Reno saw a peculiar look flash across the man's eyes, but it was too fast coming and gone to identify.

"Why don't you go home, Reno," Tseng instructed softly. "Get some rest. It's almost four."

Sure enough, Reno glanced at the clock and it read seven-to. Looking back to the man that was such an enigma throughout most of the day, hard to get any normal emotion out of besides fluid politeness, it was hard to believe that this was him. No tie, no jacket, hair tied back and eyes full of weariness, honest-to-Holy unguarded tiredness. But each of these things was made all the stranger because of a lightheartedness that seemed to grip that man, making him seem almost like a completely different person. It was unusual.

Finally though, Reno turned and walked towards the glass doors, pushing one open and pausing, staring out into the hallway.

"How early you comin' in?"

"About seven."

"How much sleep you gonna get from that?"

"About none."

"Wanna day off?"

"Always."

"Gonna take one?"

"No."

"Can I take it for you then?"

No response.

Reno turned to look to Tseng and grinned when he saw the smile on the man's face. Gaia damn the bastard for having a fuckin' gorgeous smile when it was real.

"Go home Reno. You've got to be here at nine, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, bossman. Jus' thought I'd ask. And Tseng?"

The dark haired man looked up at him after beginning to turn away, an expression of curiosity on his face.

"Seriously. Sleep in fer once. Not like the fuckers appreciate what ya do anyway. Least _we_ have no choice to."

Tseng smiled warmly. "Thanks Reno. I'll think about it."

"I know where ya live, boss," Reno called now, strolling out the door. "I'll barricade your doors until noon if ya don't give it a rest!"

"Looking forward to the day you try it," Reno could hear him call back. The redhead sighed and walked up to where Elena and Rude had been hiding. No sign of them. With a curse he trotted forward to the corner. Still nothing. He found them by the elevators.

"Let's go," he said. "I'm sick an' tired of this place. We spend enough time here."

"How was Tseng?" Rude asked.

"Bastard's nuts," Reno replied and strolled into the elevator as the doors opened.

"Is he seriously pulling an all-nighter, you think?" Elena asked, concerned.

"Seems like it," Rude responded.

"Ah quit it ya two," Reno cut in. "The man's got a lot goin' on. Let 'im spend his free time how he wants to."

"That's no way to spend your free time, Reno!"

"Couldn't agree with ya more, 'Lena," Reno sighed as they arrived at the bottom floor and walked out of the elevator and towards the parking garage. They split ways after finding their various vehicles and soon made their way onto the road. It was a wave or flash of the head and backlights respectively as a goodbye and then onto the streets.

His mind was still on the dark haired man, probably still upstairs on the sixtieth or so floor. Grunts only knew where the supply closets were. Cleaning or Gaia knew what now. He'd be more bothered by it if it wasn't for that look on the bastard's face.

_And that smile. He'd be a fuckin' lunatic if it wasn't for that Gaia-damned gorgeous smile._

"I seriously need ta get some sleep."

. . . . . . .

**Author's Note:** It's been a long time since I wrote something like this. I would have made it an addition to my drabbles, but I've had this one planned—can you believe it?—for more than a year now, and I never finished it until now. But I got the inspiration back and so here it is! I really hope you can enjoy it, even though it's such an odd look into Tseng's life. I just wanted to experiment with it.

And remember! Reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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